


An Adult Understanding

by blackiris19



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drinking, Laughter, Other, Sadness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-16
Updated: 2016-09-16
Packaged: 2018-08-15 09:27:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8051041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackiris19/pseuds/blackiris19
Summary: Two of my favorite characters have a drink. A short short.





	An Adult Understanding

I feel her sometimes -- the girl I was before I became the Slayer. She had no idea what she wanted to do with most of her life but she did have big plans for her sixteenth birthday that involved wine coolers and the dark haired guy from third period algebra. If she played her cards right he might ask her to the prom.

There's not much of her that hasn't been burned away over the years, starting with prom. That girl definitely wouldn't be sitting in a Wizard pub at the edge of magical London on her twenty-first birthday, snorting a mouthful of rum and coke painfully onto the bar.

It's been a long time since I laughed deep. A dozen deaths, at least, and only one of those was mine. So tonight, while this guy at the bar is wise cracking under his breath, I start to snicker. One of us is emboldened by drink or laughter and suddenly we're falling off our stools together. He wipes his eyes and hails the bartender. I watch him in the mirror behind the bar and when he isn't looking at me his eyes are haunted. Then he is looking at me and they're still haunted in the same way as mine. 

"Never did get your name," I say.

He smiles at me. "George Weasley. You're beautiful."

Great, a romantic drunk. Not that I'm in danger -- it's just that he seems so nice and sweet and vulnerable and I don't want to add to whatever haunts him.

"Buffy Summers, " I tell him even though he hasn't asked. He whistles low.

"The Slayer? You're not going to slay me, are you?"

I'd kind of hoped he wouldn't use that one. He saw my face fall a bit.

"I'm sorry, that was crass. Please -- " he twisted a rose from a half-soaked napkin and held it out to me. "Forgive me?"

Well. How could I resist that?

"You're forgiven, " I said as I twirled the dainty stems in my fingers. I thought about the girl I might have been and, looking at his profile as he swiveled his stool to return a greeting, wondered about the boy he used to be, too. The boy he was before he became the haunted man beside me.


End file.
